


Confessions

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: Starting Over [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair has finally moved all his stuff into the apartment.  His room is mostly arranged and they’ve had their celebration.  So, how did the first night as official roommates go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

Regan rubbed her eyes.  The sun was far too bright for her taste this morning; brighter than normal for her bedroom.  Weren’t those curtains her sister-in-law gave her supposed to block out the light?  Why was it so blasted bright?  And why did it feel like there was a weight from her chest down?  Wait; this wasn’t her _bed_.  She wasn’t in her bedroom.  Why was there something heavy between her legs?

“Ngh ….  Too … early.  G’back t’sleep,” a sleepy male voice muttered as its owner nuzzled against the warm body beneath him.

Regan chanced a look down and had to bite back a smile.  As awkward as the position was, it still warmed her heart.  She was stretched out along the couch cushions, using one armrest as a pillow.  The weight she felt turned out to be Alistair; head nestled between her clothed breasts.  One hand cupped around the soft mound, flexing and squeezing ever so lightly each time he breathed in, relaxing on the exhale.  Her legs had become wrapped around his torso somewhere in the night, keeping him pinned against her.  “Alistair?”  It wasn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing waking up like this.  But her back was starting to hurt.  And where was Jasper?

“Five more minutes, mom?”  Alistair shifted, arching into a stretch that drove his hips down while his shoulders went up.  Wait.  Something wasn’t _quite_ right.  Well, no; that wasn’t really correct.  The warmth beneath him felt _very_ right, but that little voice at the back of his head knew that his bed didn’t feel like _this_.  Cautiously, he peeked through near-closed eyes and froze.  Looking back at him, cheeks tinged pink, was a pair of green eyes that he’d know anywhere, wide with surprise.

“Alistair?”

He tried to scramble off her in a panic.  Maker’s breath, what if she was upset that he had practically been pawing at her in his sleep?  He felt her legs fall away and almost fell off the opposite end of the couch as he threw his body back.  His heart thundered in his chest.  He could feel his entire face going hot.  He’d thought it had been a dream!  That soft body, the warmth he’d felt against him had him just aching to roll his hips into it, seek out _more_ of it.  Andraste preserve him, she was going to _hate_ him.  He’d _just_ moved in and she was already going to kick him out.  He just _knew_ it.  “Regan; I’m … I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to ….”  Maker, what if she was mad at him?  What if she _really_ got upset?  “I mean, I don’t even remember ….  Please forgive me?”

Now that she was free of the extra weight, she shoved herself up, tucking her legs under her as she struggled into a seated position.  While that hadn’t _quite_ been the way she’d expected to wake up, it hadn’t been _bad_.  “For…give you?  There’s nothing to forgive, Alistair.”  Honestly, there was a part of her that wouldn’t have minded staying that way, had they not been on the couch.     “It’s OK.  Really.  I … I kind of liked it.”

He watched as she left her side of the couch and came over to him.  Arms wrapped around him before he could say or do anything, pulling him into a warm hug.  “Not quite the way I’d imagined my first official night here going,” he finally managed to chuckle; his heart had _finally_ stopped racing.  His face still felt warm, but at least he didn’t feel like he was panicking anymore. 

“Oh?  How _did_ you see it going?”  Regan laughed.  She slowly stepped back and headed for the kitchen.  She wasn’t terribly hungry yet, but it was coming.  Plus, she figured the two of them would need coffee.  Alistair had taken the day off work to recover from moving, and they planned to meet up with her brother and his family to enjoy a leisurely hike through the Brecilian Forest looking for things Oren could use in a school project.

Oh; he should have just kept his mouth shut, shouldn’t he?  The heat that had finally started to fade was back in full force.  “I … um, well … I just thought ….”  He sighed, all but burying his face in his hands.  In reality, he’d pictured that first night going one of two ways – either both simply being exhausted and passing out on their respective beds, or curled up together in one bed or the other.  It wouldn’t have been the first time they’d slept together; just the first time in a bed.  They often fell asleep sitting up on the couch.  “Honestly?  I pictured myself staring up at the ceiling, wondering just how I managed to get lucky enough to find someone like you.”

It was her turn to go bright red, ducking behind the door of the refrigerator while she looked for something to eat.  Resisting the urge to peek over the fridge door, she finally responded.  “Waking up this way wasn’t _all_ bad.  I just -.”  She paused, trying to get her mouth to catch up with her thoughts.  “The bed might be a little more comfortable next time.”  She finally pulled out a couple apples and a bit of leftover steak for Jasper.  Speaking of the mabari, where _was_ he?  It wasn’t like him not to have his nose right in everything.  “Have you seen Jasper this morning?”  When Alistair responded that he hadn’t, she dropped the steak in his bowl and headed down the hallway.

Alistair came up behind her just as she peeked through the door to his room.  When he saw her shake her head and cover her eyes, he slipped in and looked around.  When he found Jasper, all he could do was laugh.  The mabari was curled up in the middle of the bed, sleeping just as soundly as you please.

                                                *****                   *****                   *****                   *****

“Um … Regan?” 

A tired body rolled away from the door.  It was just in her head that she heard a voice - _his_ voice.  She was dreaming.  He was sleeping across the hall, likely sprawled out across his mattress, just like he had been when she’d snuck a peek before she’d turned in.  Just like he had been the past couple nights.

“Are you awake?”

‘Alistair; are you OK?”  There had to be a reason he was in her room in the middle of the night, didn’t there?  He wouldn’t just be standing there for the heck of it.  “Is something wrong?”  Regan sat up almost instantly, though she couldn’t quite get her eyes to open enough to make out details.  She could tell he was just wearing shorts – a fact that delighted the part of her that found him so damned attractive.  But, what was that in his hand?  Was it a pillow?  Why was he carrying a pillow from _his_ room into hers?

His hand flew to the back of his head, a sheepish smile lost to the shadows.  He hadn’t intended on coming to bother her this late at night.  He hadn’t intended on broaching such a subject until at least daylight, when they were both awake, likely _ages_ down the line because surely she’d never actually go for it.  But _someone_ had other ideas.  “I … um, well … Jasper ….”  He glanced over his shoulder at the now closed door to his room and tried not to laugh.  If it had been _anyone_ else, he would have found the whole situation hilarious.  “Jasper seems to have decided that my … well, that my bed is his bed?  He won’t even share.”

Was she still dreaming?  Had he really said what she _thought_ she’d heard?  Jasper had chased him out of his own bed?  “What …?”

He took a tentative step forward, watching for any sign that he was pushing his luck.  “Jasper doesn’t seem to want to share the room … or at least not my bed.  I _would_ have just gone for the couch but ….”  He swallowed, his throat suddenly going as dry as the desert.  Was he _really_ going to ask her?  _Could_ he really bring himself to ask?  His heart was thrumming in his ears again.  “I … was kind of thinking –.”  He paused, dragging his fingers through his hair; he was frustrated with himself and his inability to get a thought out clearly.  “Hoping, really, that maybe I could … sleep with you?”  He watched her cheeks go pink and her mouth open and hurried to clarify.  “Not like _that_.  I mean, I _do_ want to do … _that_ with … well, with _you_.”  He just kept making it worse and worse, didn’t he?  “But not … now?  I mean … I can -.  I’m willing to -.”  An exasperated sigh interrupted his attempts to explain himself.  “Let me try again?  I want to wait until you’re ready; until _we’re_ ready.”  He glanced back at his room.  “But I really _would_ just like to sleep in a bed tonight.  With you, if you’re willing?”

Was she dreaming?  No; she didn’t think she was.  There would likely be less clothing involved, surely less stammering on his part and blushing on her part if this was a dream.  But he was right.  They’d briefly talked about past experiences, or lack thereof, but not a lot.  She knew he’d never been with anyone.  He knew she had more experience than he did, but that it wasn’t all good.  “I ….”  She took a breath, then another, and patted the bed next to her.  “Come on, Alistair.  I … I think I’d like it if you did.”

                                                *****                   *****                   *****                   *****

Alistair awoke to an empty bed.  The spot where he was sure she had been was still warm, so he knew she hadn’t been gone long.  He let his arm fall over his eyes and sighed.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up feeling so rested.  Just having her nestled up against him, her head on his chest and his arm around her shoulders had been amazing, and more than a little arousing.  He just hoped he hadn’t somehow offended her, either by asking to share her bed, or poking her in the middle of the night.  Maker, should he tell her what he wanted?  That he wanted _her_ to be his first?  His only, if he was totally honest with himself.  It was a lot to assume; he knew that.  It probably wasn’t something she would even want, really.  Wait; what was that amazing smell?

“Breakfast is served.”  Regan moved carefully through the doorway carrying a tray loaded with what Alistair could only assume were breakfast items.  She concentrated on where her feet landed, making sure she didn’t trip over anything that might spring up in her way, like socks or shoes, or some stray sunbeam.  “Thought you might be hungry.” 

He could make out a plate of bacon, some French toast, two glasses of milk … and was that a full wedge of cheese?  She brought him _cheese_?  Maker, how did he get so lucky?

“Don’t get used to it,” she laughed, watching his eyes light up.  “Think of this as Jasper’s apology for kicking you out of your bed.” 

The tray landed in his lap as soon as he sat up.  Maker, it all smelled wonderful.  How had she found the time to do all _this_?  “You really didn’t have to - .”

“I know.”  She cut him off with a kiss on the cheek before climbing onto the bed next to him.  “I just thought that –“  She glanced away, feeling the start of several knots forming in her gut.  “Thought maybe we could talk about, well, what you said last night?”  Andraste’s ass, her stomach was twisting in on itself all of a sudden.  She _knew_ what she wanted to say, knew what she _needed_ to say.  She just couldn’t seem to make the words come fast enough.  “Because … obviously, there’s a … well, I mean ….”  Both hands went up to cover her face, slowly dragging down, stretching her features oddly.  Maker’s ass; why was this so complicated?  She wasn’t inexperienced; why was just _talking_ about it with him so damned hard?  “I am certainly _interested_ in the idea.”  Her voice trailed off; her nerves obvious as she watched his face for any reaction.

Alistair swallowed the hunk of cheese he’d managed to sneak while she was talking.  He’s been paying attention, certainly; but that cheese had just been calling his name and he couldn’t resist taking a bite.  But was she saying she _was_ interested in the idea of sleeping together?  Was she really saying _that_?  She was _interested_ in possibly ….  With _him_?  Maker’s breath, he needed to say something, _anything_ lest she think he was changing his mind.  A quick swig of milk to free his throat and he damn near coughed up a lung.  Blast it!  “I … you know I’ve never … gone that far.” 

“I know, dearheart.”  She trailed her fingers along his arm and sighed softly.  “That’s … that’s one of the things I think we need to talk about.”  She caught the flash of worry that he tried hiding by stuffing another piece of cheese in his mouth.  “It’s not a bad thing,” she hurried to reassure him.  “I don’t … I don’t want you thinking you _have_ to do something just because I have.”

“No!  No, no, no.  That’s not why I ….”  He shook his head quickly, trying to make sure she understood that was so far from the reason he brought it up.  “I don’t want to do _that_ just to … to catch up.”  He looked around for a safer place to put the tray, but nowhere on the bed would work.  He held up his hand in a quick ‘wait one second’ type gesture and managed to set the tray on the floor.  He all but scrambled back to her and took her hand.  “And I know you’ve had some … less than great experiences, even if I don’t know _what_ they were.”  He tried to gulp down the nerves that wanted to bubble up.  “I care about you.  You are … an _incredible_ woman.  And I don’t want to be just some _guy_ that paws and drools all over you.”  The words only stopped when a shaky finger landed on his lips.

“Alistair ….”  Her voice was soft.  Tears started to tickle at the corners of her eyes.  Regan took a deep breath.  Already, he was so much different than the others.  Well, most of the others.  Nathaniel started out almost as cautious and attentive to _her_.  And her time with Rory had been amazing, but they’d never gotten to _that_ point, somehow.  But the rest?  “You’ve already proven that you’re not _that_ , Alistair.  Trust me; I’ve seen that type in action.”

His arm went around her.  He tugged her gently against him.  He hated that she’d had to deal with anything less than a perfect gentleman before.  Of course, if she _hadn’t_ , there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be here, with her in his arms.  “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”  A part of him really _did_ want to know what sort of things she’d had to deal with, and it bothered him a little.  But he knew he didn’t want to push If she still wasn’t ready to talk.

She smiled faintly.  It was just like him to worry about her comfort for such a thing.  “I … haven’t had the best luck with … _that_ , I guess you could say.”  She closed her eyes for a moment and just enjoyed leaning against him.  “My first boyfriend and I, we’d … we’d been together for a while.  Less than a year, but longer than a few months, and he kept hinting and trying and flattering.  He was a football player; the team nicknamed him ‘The Ox’ and he always had this –.“  Her hands twitched, trying to illustrate just how large a group she was talking about.  “… this pack of cheerleaders around him.  And … my frie - … the girls I was hanging around with at the time kept saying I should go for it; said he’d leave if I didn’t because he had his choice of girls that would.  So I did.  And … a week later, I found him making out with one of the girls who had told me to sleep with him.”

Alistair pursed his lips.  His arms tightened around her without intending to, hugging her close.  How could this Ox person do something like that?  And her _friend_?  He couldn’t fathom what she must have felt to come across that.  What could he say?  _Was_ there anything he could say that wouldn’t sound stupid or condescending?  He leaned over, brushing gentle kisses against her hair and temple.

Her fingers started tracing an abstract pattern along his thigh.  It was somehow a little easier to talk about all this while nestled against him.  “It took a while before I was willing to date again.”  She shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly.  “I guess that would make sense, wouldn’t it?  There was Dairren, but we didn’t even make it through one date before figuring out that it was just too weird for us so I’m not sure he even counts; plus, he might have actually come before Temmerly.  Then there was Braden.  My _mother_ convinced me to give him a chance; said he was a _nice_ guy.  He was the son of friend of a friend or something. 

“We actually had fun on the first date.  He was considerate; kind, actually kind of funny.”  She ticked off the positives on one hand.  “The second date … went further than I’d planned.  He might have planned it that way; I’m not sure.  But we … we ended up doing it in the back seat of his car.  It was … over quickly.”  She fidgeted slightly, surprised to find herself embarrassed about the whole thing.  “And more than a little … well, more than a little disappointing.  I guess he thought so too, because less than a week later I -.”  Her voice caught in her throat I caught him screwing a waitress in a bar’s bathroom.”

Alistair felt his stomach drop.  Twice?  That happened to her _twice …_ in a row?  At least the second one wasn’t with someone she knew?  Did that really make it any better?  He didn’t really think so.  He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

“There was Rory, of course.  But you knew about him.  We were never really _that_ serious, so the subject never came up.  After he left, I … I didn’t date anyone for a while.  Then there was Nathaniel. We _talked_ about it.  We seriously considered it - even made plans.  We ….”  She dug her fingers into her hair and sighed.  “We were going to take a weekend trip out of town; get a little chalet in the Frostbacks.  Maker’s ass; I had my bags _packed_ and then … Rendon Howe showed up at our house the night we were supposed to leave and, well, you know the rest.”

“Regan, I … I don’t know what to ….”  Alistair’s voice was deceptively soft.  It was almost hard to hear the hint of actual anger, though he wasn’t entirely sure which one he was more angry with.  With all that had happened, he could understand why she was almost as skittish about the subject as he was.  But _he_ wasn’t going to do something like that to her, right?  Right.  “You know I care about you.  More than just _care_ ; I love you.  I … I wasn’t raised to take this sort of thing lightly, and I would _never_ do something like that.  Not to you.”  He brought a hand up and gently traced a finger along her cheek.  “I’m not going to push; you deserve better than that.”

“So do you, Alistair.”  She shifted, turning so she could finally look him in the eye.  The look on his face was hard for her to gauge; it was … filled with what looked like a thousand emotions all at once.  Her heart started thudding in her ears again.  Andraste’s balls, he was so close.  He felt _safe_.  “I _want_ you … _that_ way; I do.  I just ….”  Out of the corner of her eye she could make out the time on her alarm.  She had ten minutes to log into work.  “Just not now,” she sighed with a faint chuckle shaking her shoulders.  “I have a conference call in ten minutes.”

Alistair burst out laughing, his confusion giving way to understanding as her explanation sunk in.  He brought his hands to the sides of her face and gently pulled her in, pressing his lips to hers.  His tongue teased at her lips, slipping through when she gasped in what might have been surprise.  He felt her hands clutch at his arms and smiled into the kiss before pulling back.  “I love you; you know that right.”  When she looked like she was about to come back in for another, he shook his head.  “Conference call, love.  You don’t want to have to explain to Fergus why you were late, do you?”

She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him away.  “I love you too, you ass,” she laughed before climbing off the bed and heading out to start her day.

Alistair smiled to himself and flopped back onto the bed.  Maker’s breath, how had he managed to find someone like her?  And more importantly, how did he go about not screwing this up?  He was well and truly in love … the kind of feeling that only seemed to exist in the stories his nannies had told him about.

 


End file.
